August 10, 2005

Not long ago, I attended my first baseball game. The experience was frightening and yet ultimately satisfactory, if only for the mountains of sugar I consumed while I was there.

Tonight will mark a first of another kind, when I attend a bachelor party.

A heterosexual bachelor party.

Apparently, the strip club that is one of the evening’s many destinations requires that its patrons wear pants and shoes. I’m up for the movie that is the first part of the celebration, the dinner that is the second part, and the drinking (or at least watching the drinking) that is the third part, but I may end up wearing shorts and flip-flops so that I have to bow out before I risk getting a lap dance.

Like this:

19 Responses to Not long ago, I attended

I’ve been to a bunch of bachelor parties and had a grand ol’ time — it’s hard to go wrong in the company of a bunch of good friends in the mood to have fun — but I’ve always bowed out before the strip club portion of those evenings. I’m not grossed out by the naked ladies, but moreso by the idea of watching my straight friends turn into wolves around them.

My brother’s friends made me get a lap dance at his bachelor party, and I think it was the best conversation that stripper ever had at work. They rarely get the chance for a real conversation, or at least one that doesn’t involve “pussy” or “yeah, bitch.” I asked her what perfume she was wearing, and I still remember…Sunflowers. Sigh.

I’ve always been kind of fond of lap dances. Especially when the stripper knows I’m gay; she tends to go all out since she knows she’s safe. And it’s worth being close to all the naughty girly bits when you see the looks of longing and jealousy on the straight boys’ faces.

I went to one but for a lesbian who was kind of yoou know…manly. It was NOT pretty for me to see, although I know all the straight guys have fantasies about this, but what I saw, wasn’t pretty. It really wasn’t. There were a bunch of girls drooling all over the female stripper, and the only thing I could think of is ways to kill myself:

Are you kidding…you have to go…i’ve been to several straight boy bachelor parties and they are one of the most homoerotic things i’ve ever attended…even more homoerotic that the NYSC locker room on Wall Street, if that’s even possible. First, the whole point of the evening is to watch your buddies get turned on…there are all these hot men walking around with hardons, and there’s often a long line for the stalls rather than the urinals, if you know what i mean. take advantage of it, stay alert, you’ll see more hardons than any steam room you’ve ever been to.

My best experience with this was once when the party was at a private home, so the girlie had to be accompanied by a “bodyguard” to make sure the horny groomsmen didn’t get too out of control. The bodyguard was obviously one of the built muscle hotties that same agency sends out to bachelorette parties, and I only hope he makes something comparable doing the bodyguard gigs.

Anyway, he was some fine frucking sh*t and I made sure he knew it!! “C’mon, look at all these str8 guys, they’re having the time of their lives, can’t you at least take your shirt off & wag your crotch in my face or something?!” He was a good sport but the bastard didn’t take off a goddamned thing.

Anyway honey, whenever you get back from your Campy Camp-Camp, we MUST get together & do some serious drinking & boy watching, now that you have a little freedom in that regard… =) It’s been too long.